


The Panic Attack

by altalemur



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Autistic Character, Drug Use, Explicit friendship, Gen, Implicit romantic feelings, M/M, Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altalemur/pseuds/altalemur
Summary: The scene at the marina goes differently, when Robert confronts Austin, Joseph is there as well.





	The Panic Attack

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So it's autistic pride day. Here is something personal I wrote, based on a recent experience for me, that I turned into a fanfic.
> 
> The underlined text are intrusive thoughts. So it’s more like what people have told Austin than what he thinks about himself most of the time. Including the R slur.

“How’s Joseph?” Robert asks.

 

There’s something different about Robert’s body language, although it’s hard to pin down. His voice is definitely lower. He might be angry, and at me. 

 

I feeling of cold spreads in my chest. I was nervous about the other man. I fucking knew I should have taken an edible before going to the marina. I always freeze up when someone was angry at me.

 

“H-he’s, uh…” I wrack my brain trying to remember what Joseph told me last time we hung out. “I think he’s going through some marital stuff?”

 

“So I guess he’s your friend now, huh? Your pal?” Robert was definitely angry. At me, and about Joseph? 

 

I try to think this through. Robert hates Joseph. Is this some sort of Mean Girl situation, and Robert doesn’t want his friends to be friends with Joseph? Am I supposed to pick a side?! Ok. Take a breath. Just say you don’t pick a side. Or that they’re both your friend. Breathe.

 

“You’re my friend too. And I’m his friend.”

 

“And I suppose two friends just spend the night out on a private yacht together, being buds, chatting about their friendship. Is that what two friends do?” He was yelling at me now.

 

This was bad. “I…” My heart was too fast. “ -don’t...” 

 

There was a noise behind Robert. We turned and saw Joseph. What the hell was happening?

 

“Joseph. Found a replacement plaything dumb enough to fall for your shit?”

 

Joseph was smiling, but tight. The same smile he gave to Mary, when he wanted to yell. Oh shit, both of them were angry now.

 

“Now now, Robert. It’s not what you think.” Joseph said. He wasn’t coming closer, but he looked angrier than I’d seen Joseph before, if tighter smile and that strain in his voice meant anything.

 

“Bullshit!” Robert was yelling. His hands were curled into fists, and he was walking to Joseph.

 

How did I end up in the middle of this mess? How did this happen? My brain is already in over-analyzing mode. It’s an unwanted reflex to figure out how exactly this happened;  where I fucked up .

 

I went over memories with Joseph, with Robert’s words jumbling around them. I connected what the two of them had said, what Mary said. Going over all the body language and confusing subtle things that I had brushed off, coming from Joseph. It was obvious to Robert what was happening,  because he’s not a fucking idiot . 

 

The edges were getting blurry, telescoping. I was breathing too fast. People were yelling and it wasn’t safe. I had to leave NOW. 

 

I don’t remember much as I ran home. I was in front of my door and struggling to open it, before I was inside and safe. I almost slid down the wall. No, near the door wasn’t safe enough. I ran to the bathroom in my bedroom. 

 

I shove my hand in my pocket and take out the CBD-THC edible I was saving for potential whale sightings. I shove it in my mouth and chew quickly.  Don’t think about how you made a complete fool of yourself. Why do I keep doing this shit? Why do I keep fucking up with people?

 

I finished that. Crying in full force now.  Stupid . Edibles aren’t good for the middle of panic attacks. That’s what my vape is for. I grab my cannabis kit from under the sink. I already have some weed pre-ground, and I stuff it into the vaporizer.

 

A heavy weight settles over my shoulders. Amanda brought my weighted blanket. She runs her fingers through my hair until I start vaping, turning on the air vent before she leaves.

 

I’m such a fucking mess that my daughter has to take care of me.

 

NO! We prepared for this sort of thing. She knows because she loves me.

 

I acted like a complete idiot. Both of them must think I’m some kind of retard.

 

Don’t say that! They were being sneaky. I just… have blind spots…. No one else understands...

 

I gasped and cried in between several puffs. I muffled my mouth against the weighted blanket. I didn’t want Amanda to hear me cry. 

 

Time passes in the bathroom in increments. I cry until there aren't tears left. I'm drained of tears, and drained of the sharp panic along with them. I feel a little relieved, and near empty of everything. I breathe deeply, feeling how it's easier, and finish the load in the vape. 

 

Things inside me are quiet, and I can remember the meditation I’m supposed to be doing. I reach inside myself and find my center. I’m calming down. I focus on breathing deeply, and tell myself I’m safe. There’s some calming music not far off. I turn my head and see Amanda just outside the bathroom, sprawled on my floor. She’s at least looking at her phone.

 

I wipe my wet face. “I’m ok, Amanda,” I say, but my voice is thick with crying and mucus. I pull myself up and fill a glass with water, gulping it down. It’s a soothing cold that spreads across my overheated chest. I pause to ground myself in that feeling, then take another drink.

 

“Did Joseph do something to you, Dad? Because I’ll train our future dog to bite off his dick.” Amanda is looking at me now. She’s probably serious.

 

I shake my head. “No, it was my fault. I misunderstood things… like I do.” I paused, seeing Amanda making punching motions and looking in the direction of Joseph’s house. “Please do not kill our neighbor, Panda.”

 

The doorbell rang. Amanda got up to answer it, mumbling “If that’s Joseph he’s going to catch these hands.” Does that mean she’s going to punch him? It probably didn’t mean patty cake.

 

I looked in the mirror at my face, then down at the mess I’d made of the sink and floor. All of my cannabis supplies were scattered. I poked at a few of them. I needed to clean this up eventually, but some morbid curiosity wanted to see if Joseph really had come over to explain his side of things.  He’s probably been lying to me the whole time . I went to my bedroom door to listen to who it was. 

 

Amanda's answered the door by now. The other voice wasn’t Joseph. It was Robert. It sounded like he was trying to ask Amanda about me. And Amanda was trying to seem threatening to a man twice her weight, that precious girl.

 

I should talk to him.  I looked like a mess, probably disgusting . But Robert already knew that. I didn’t owe him an explanation. Did he want one? I wanted to check, at least. He sounded worried, not angry. I sighed. I looked back in the mirror and touched my tear-swollen eyelids, before wiping down with a cold cloth and blowing my nose. Feeling better comes first over cleaning the sink.

 

I stepped out into the hall so he and Amanda could see me.

 

“Stand down, Panda. He has clearance,” I try to sound like usual, but my voice is stressed from the crying. I head for the refrigerator and get a seltzer water, drinking most of it quickly.

 

They’re both at the door and Robert’s looking directly at me. I can’t look at him looking at me.

 

“If you want to talk, at least come in.” I don’t want the neighbors to see and hear more than they already have. I already can’t live this down. It’s going to be a Schrodinger's Awkward Social situation where maybe everyone saw and knew, and maybe they didn’t. And I have to toe a line that I can’t even see.

 

The door closed. “Austin…” Robert began.

 

I hold up a hand in his direction, looking at the pictures on the refrigerator. Some of Amanda’s classic works are beautifully displayed on the metallic surface. “Can we talk about this away from my teenage daughter?”

 

“Dad!” Of course Amanda wants to keep me safe and away from people when I’m upset. I try to do the same for her. But I can’t have this kind of conversation in front of her.

 

“I’m fine, Amanda. Really. We just need to talk privately.”

 

I glance at Robert. His expression is a bit flat and hard to read, but he nods at me. I motion back at my room.

 

I don’t bother turning on more lights, or turning off the music. I head back to the master bathroom and start cleaning up the mess I made of my cannabis supplies. I carefully arrange everything where they should be, and start cleaning my vape. 

 

The vaping has already kicked in, and the edible will kick in before the vape wears off. All that happened in the marina still happened, but I can think about it without being overwhelmed by it. I can feel, under a layer of calmness and euphoria, the panic and fear still there. Sort of detached, like I’m roleplaying as myself, or seeing a memory.

 

“Full disclosure: I am already stoned.” I fiddle with the storage for my supplies. “I forgot to ask if you wanted a drink, or um… can I offer you a bowl?”

 

Robert stands in the doorway between my bedroom and the bathroom. Maybe he feels almost as awkward as I do right now. He shakes his head, not quite looking at me, either.

 

“I didn’t mean to scare you off like that.” Robert’s voice is soft. Like he’s talking to a spooked bunny. He’s even got his hands by his sides instead of crossed.

 

Something like a laugh and a cry bursts out of me, and I wipe my face again.

 

“Yes you did.” Everything about Robert was scary at the marina.

 

“Not like that.”

 

“Well, that was what me being scared looks like.” I shrug. It’s something I would change if I could, but it’s part of the whole package. At least I can manage it, make sure the fear doesn’t wreck my life for weeks and months. I’ll be fine soon. And maybe I could get this whole Robert thing over with. Then I can focus on recovering without this hanging over my head.

 

It’s quiet for a minute. I don’t know if I should explain anything, if Robert wants an explanation. If he’s just here out of obligation or guilt. What does he want?

 

“I’m just,” he speaks first. There’s a thud, like Robert slumped into the door frame. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

 

Panicked thoughts are swirling faster again, but the THC calm shushes them to a whisper. “Was it really that obvious to you? What was happening? Does the whole cul de sac think that? That Joseph and…” My throat closes on the words, but I get out them out. “That the whole boat thing was a pretense for sex?”

 

“Just me and Mary. She thought you were doing an act. I thought you were just being a naive id-” his voice cuts off because I interrupt him.

 

“It’s called autism. I was being autistic,” I blurt, correct, word diarrhea… something. Looks like I am going to explain this.

 

I don’t know what Robert thinks he knows about autism. He just saw me have a panic attack. This is the worst case scenario for ‘Coming out’ and disclosing an autism diagnosis. “I’m just… always anxious and I’m  stupid  when it comes to people,” I start.

 

I slammed my palms against my forehead.  So Stupid . “I thought I was making friends in the neighborhood. And Joseph just kept inviting me to hang out because he was being nice. Finding out that he had sexual motives was a shock.”

 

It’s hard to describe how I felt around Joseph. I was nervous, in a different way than just nervous around new people. And he was nice, and persistent. I wanted to get to know my neighbors, to make friends. People aren’t always persistent to become friends with me. It was exciting and nice making friends with Joseph. I don’t think Robert can relate to that; how one-sided friendships always feel to me.

 

Robert was at a loss for words. He’s probably looking at me, but I don’t know what he’s expecting to see. I hope he doesn’t say that I don’t “look autistic.” Or that I do. If he thinks I’m making shit up as an excuse. I can’t look at him looking at me.

 

“It’s not your fault,” Robert says. I’ve heard that before, but I still didn’t expect it from Robert. Is he secretly a therapist? “Joseph is a snake. He’s played this game before.”

 

I wish I could believe that. At least the not my fault part. Even if Joseph is a snake… I think of all the guys who passed through my life, everyone except Alex. Men with veneers that everyone else could see past, except me. All the flirting that is always obvious in hindsight. I just have to stop and consider that the other person has a different motive for friendliness than just making friends.

 

I want to slap my own face, but my face just falls into my hands instead. “Please tell me I haven’t been flirting with everyone in the cul de sac.”

 

“You’ve been a perfectly platonic, amiable friend to everyone in the goddamn neighborhood. You’re a nice guy and everyone likes you. Half of us would probably go toe to toe with the Dover Ghost on your behalf.”

 

“That is the nicest story you’ve come up with so far,” I smile at him.

 

“You calling me a liar?”

 

“Someone has to,” I chuckle. 

 

“You weren’t exactly flirting with anyone. You’re just…” Robert sounds uncomfortable, but not like he’s lying. “You’re so damn nice. It’s like you’re too good to be true, most of the time. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone was thirsty for you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Well that’s… something to think about. I don’t know what else to say.

 

“I know I am,” he says quietly.

 

I quickly turn to Robert. He’s leaning against the door frame, looking at the line between carpet and tile, and not at me. But his face is blushing. I would swear he looks nervous.

 

“Oh.” Shit. Say more than that. 

 

No use. I just stare at Robert.

 

“I’ll make this up however I can. I’ll make sure Joseph is scared off.”

 

“Uh… okay. Yes. Thanks.” Robert’s taking responsibility for social damage control. I didn’t think he was the type to do that. Then another thing occurred to me, in the damage control department. “Oh, can you, uh, tell Mary that I didn’t mean to flirt with her husband. And that I’m sorry.”

 

“I told you, it wasn’t your fault. Joseph’s the guilty party here. Mary didn’t hold it over my head when I did the same damn thing with him.”

 

“Oh!” For fuck’s sakes I need new words.

 

“Yeah…” Robert said. He rubs his neck and looks away. “And I’ll, uh, try not to scare the shit out of you again.”

 

I nod, and think about what Robert’s saying. “I’ll do my best not to need being scared away from anything,” I answer.

 

I think Robert looks like he wants to get going. He’s looking at the door out of my bedroom. I stand next to him and reach out to hold his hand. I’m looking down at our hands, toward the floor. I can see and feel Robert stiffen before entwining our fingers more. I hold his hand for a quiet moment.

 

“Thank you,” I said.

 

“I didn’t do anything to be grateful for.”

 

“You helped me not make a huge mistake. Thank you. You acted like a friend.” I pause, then feel like I should clarify. “And that’s not just the weed talking.” 

 

Holy shit would a lot worse have happened if Robert wasn’t there, if I had taken the edible when we got out to the open ocean. While on Joseph’s boat. If we had had drinks, again. In the past, I’ve made a lot of bad decisions while stoned or drunk that I regretted in the morning.

  
  
“Actually maybe you should get going before I accidentally seduce you,” I say. Joking. Yes. Totally casual. Like the idea that I flirted with everyone won’t make me want to panic again when I’m less stoned. But right now it is sort of funny, and I giggle.

 

“Too late. Your siren song has already reached my mind. There’s no hope for me.” He says. It sounds like he’s going to weave a whole story out of this.

 

“I’m pretty sure my teenage daughter is listening to us at this point.”

 

Robert squeezes my hand before letting go and moving away. “I’ll get out of your hair, then.”

 

“See ya…” I walk him out. 

 

I see Amanda bounce onto the couch from the hallway while I’m walking. I give her a look, and she feigns innocence. When Robert’s gone, I sit near her.   
  


“Thanks for the help, kiddo. How does some baking therapy sound?”

 

“Mm. For some reason I’m in the mood for brownies.”

 

We laugh together. We stay on the couch for a bit longer.

 

“So…” Amanda says. “You’re putting the moves on every dad in the neighborhood. Slick.”

 

“Inadvertently. I was trying to make friends. Like humans do. You can’t prove a thing in court.”

 

“Buy my silence with baked goods.”

 

“I knew I was raising a black mailer. Alright. Zucchini and chocolate chip cake time.”

 

“Yes!”


End file.
